Gemotions

The ocean breeze ruffled her hair as she sat on the porch swing, the rhythmic creak a gentle counterpoint to the distant crash of the waves. The letter from her uncle sat in her lap, detailing his financial troubles and his need to sell his mother's diamond ring. Sarah knew the ring’s sentimental value to her uncle; she felt a pang of sympathy.

She closed her eyes and listened to the seagulls calling. The salt air tasted clean and crisp. She took a deep, steadying breath.

She held the letter out, letting the breeze take it, then she pulled it back and folded it carefully. This was a challenge. She would write back later, offering some suggestions. For now, the motion of the swing was enough. She felt a lightness within herself.